


Infinitely

by OnyxSphynx



Series: I write RiddlerGordon [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, How Much?, Love, M/M, Making Out, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bathrobes, deep thoughts, ignore canon, just gonna, uh, very much, via Jim, what canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 17:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14430606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphynx/pseuds/OnyxSphynx
Summary: Ed and Jim cuddle and Jim thinks on his relationship with the other.(Based on the tumblr prompt, "Imagine your OTP cuddling on the couch in bathrobes")





	Infinitely

**Author's Note:**

> What even is this? Idek anymore tbh...all I know is at some point around an hour ago I wanted RiddlerGordon ftluff, couldn't find any I liked, went online to look for OTP prompts and somehow, this was born, so enjoy.

Jim lays on the couch, bathrobe wrapped tightly around his shoulders. His wet hair is flattened against his head, and despite the radiator being cranked up as high as it'll go, the sharp, bitingly cold Gotham winter wind seeps in through the cracks in the window seals and turns his ears and nose cherry-red. He hides his fingers in the fuzzy material and shivers slightly.

The sound of the shower cutting off in the bathroom is quickly followed by the sound of feet hitting the tiles and after a few minutes, Ed emerges, hair adorably spiked up and huddled in his own, emerald green, bathrobe. "Why didn't you grab a blanket?" Ed asks, seeing him shivering on the sofa.

"Too cold," Jim mumbles in response, and Ed shakes his head, fetches a blanket from the bedroom. 

"Scoot over," he commands, waiting for Jim to move so he only takes up half of the sofa, before sitting down next to him and spreading the blanket- a black and gold patchwork monstrosity with little green bows on it that Jim had gotten Ed for Christmas the year before because Ed adores things like that- over both of them. Jim gratefully melts into Ed, leeching his warmth. "Cold!" Ed yelps when Jim's toes make contact with his.

Jim chuckles, smacks a sloppy kiss onto the brunet's cheek just to watch the way he squirms at the cold. "Ji-im," Ed whines, "That's not  _fair_ , making me choose between getting kissed and being cold!" Jim just smiles, buries his head into Ed's shoulder and lets out a muffled hum of pleasure when the other cards through his hair with slender fingers, tugging softly.

"Guess you'll have to find a way to warm me up, then, won't you, Mister Nygma," Jim murmurs, and Ed chuckles quietly, the sound reverberating in his chest, makes Jim melt like nothing else can.

"C'mere, you," Ed mutters, pulls Jim into his lap and pulls the blanket up over their shoulders and presses a kiss into Jim's hair. Jim blushes, ducks his face into the crook of Ed's neck, his not-so-cold-anymore nose buried in the hollow where Ed's neck meets his collar-bone, the soft, creamy skin still warm from his shower. Ed rubs small circles on his back, massages the knots til all of the muscles are relaxed and Jim is practically plastered to Ed.

It feels good, cuddling together in his- their apartment, something he never felt with Barbara or- in the brief period of time they were together- Leslie. Barbara was always pushing him to share details of his work with her, pressuring him to fit into high-society's mold of the perfect couple while Lee was always analysing him, cataloguing his habits and quirks and, ultimately, trying to get him to leave a job that was his life for an idealized, white-picket-fence-two-point-five-children-and-a-dog life.

Ed....Ed is perfect like that, doesn't try to change Jim to suit his idealization of perfection or critique his every action or try and force him to talk about things. Ed appreciates him for who he is, sits by his side and comforts him when he wakes, screaming in the middle of the night, visions of blood and death and war at the surface of his mind, who doesn't mind Jim's awkwardness, who pulls faces in the mirror for them to laugh at, whose brilliant mind and love of riddles blows him away, leaves him in awe of the wondrous, kind, caring man who is Edward Nygma.

"What're you thinking about?" Ed asks, starting Jim out of the trance he's fallen into.

Jim blinks, admires the way the early evening sunlight filters through the window and across Ed's face, highlighting his chocolaty-brown eyes. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how much I love you." Ed quirks an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asks, " Then how much do you love me?"

"To the moon and back," Jim says, gazing at the other adoringly.

Ed pouts. "Is that all, Detective?"

Jim hums, cants his head. "No, I was wrong, I love you infinitely."

Ed huffs a laugh. "That's illogical, Jim," he says, quoting Spock. "But even so, I find that I, too, love you infinitely." He twines their hands together.

"Kiss?" Jim  requests, and Ed complies eagerly, presses his lips to Jim's softly, and at some point, Jim ends up on his back as Ed kisses him harder, more passionately, glasses-frames pushed up his nose as far as they'll, and Jim's hands come up to grasp at Ed's hair for any sort of purchase as Ed ravishes his mouth, pulls small, breathy whimpers from his lips and whispers sweet nothings into his ear, and Jim loses all grasp on reality, melts into a bliss.

Eventually, Ed sits back, hair in a disarray, glasses skewed and lips swollen, eyes gleaming. Jim can only imagine what he looks like, panting with imprints of Ed's glasses-frames, lips sore from where Ed bit them, small crescent nail-indents on his neck where Ed dug his fingers into the sensitive skin at the base of his neck and his hair, which probably looks like a bird's nest. "Again?" he asks, hoarsely, and Ed grins, pins his arms to his sides, and leans down to capture his mouth once again.

His lips taste like cherry chapstick and those caramel chocolates he loves so much, and he kisses Jim like it's their first, their last, and everything in between, like the world will end if he stops, like he'll die, and he kisses over Jim's cheekbone and trails kisses down Jim's neck, and nips along his collar-bone and Jim's hands scrabble to anchor him, white spots clouding his vision because he thinks that if he doesn't, he'll float right out of his body.

Ed pulls back slightly and Jim whines at the loss of contact, unable to form coherent words, bares his neck in invitation, and Ed pulls his hand up, places feather-light kisses on each knuckle, then the other hand before he pins both arms above Jim's head with one hand and scratches a nail down Jim's neck and the pleasure and pain conflict and Jim whimpers in the back of his throat. Ed leans over and kisses where his nail cut too deep and drew blood before he reclaims Jim's mouth.


End file.
